


Rhythmic Violence

by levisbeltbuckle



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Childhood Trauma, Domestic Violence, Drug Use, F/M, Gang Violence, M/M, Mild Gore, Sexual Abuse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-20
Updated: 2014-05-20
Packaged: 2018-01-25 20:29:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1661432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/levisbeltbuckle/pseuds/levisbeltbuckle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Eren met Annie and felt it was love at first sight- he could just tell they had experienced similar childhood traumas, and they carried each other's burdens and acted as crutches for each other. But can two broken people mend one another, when one can't accept the fact they, too, need mending?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rhythmic Violence

**Author's Note:**

> I will warn any readers that this story can get kind of heavy, and I tried my best to tag subject matter. Hopefully people will enjoy it; I think it might require a special audience. (The pairings and story progression deviate quite a bit from your average fanfiction. ;~;)

When I first saw her, everything else in my life became second priority. She was wearing a white sweatshirt and jeans; something incredibly plain, yet couldn't possibly detract from her odd beauty. The way she walked exuded strength while her eyes portrayed something a little deeper; some sort of perpetual tiredness. She was a senior when I met her, a transfer student from a different school a ways north. 

At the time, I was just a measly freshman, but I knew we were both aged beyond our years; that darkness in her eyes was a darkness I, too,carried as a badge for an ugly past. It was the kind of darkness that scares people away and makes it far too difficult to make friends. When I made the connection, I realized that she could understand me. Maybe it could work.  
I had never really bothered with things like girls and schoolyard crushes, but the way Annie carried herself that first day plagued my mind for weeks, leaving me restless and sparking thousands of different pathways for fantasies.

After working up the courage after a few weeks of silent admiration, I asked her for the phone number. She grabbed a sharpie from her bookbag and gently penned the seven digits on my forearm before turning her lips upward in a hint of a smile.

Even such a small amount of contact, plus a smile, was enough to get my heart racing every time the moment fluttered across my memory. 

We chatted over text often, and after a few dates, we became nearly inseparable. She began to smile more frequently at me, and transformed from that rough woman she was on the first day to a kind-hearted soul. (At least as far as Annie goes- she has always been rough around the edges.) We never spoke of our pasts- it was a silent connection we both understood, it didn't need to be spoken about, and neither of us really wanted to speak about it. An unspoken understanding that neither of us were 100%.

She really enjoyed sparring and teaching me self-defense- her father ran a martial arts dojo downtown, and she was an incredible warrior, flipping men twice her size onto their backs. Even when we weren’t sparring, she always was a little rough- not the dainty type. She would always smack me on the back or tackle me when I beat her playing video games. I ended up with bruises often after spending time with her, but that was exactly why I respected her. I had been through enough to shrug something like that off. Each bruise of mine was a symbol of her sturdiness and resilience. I knew Annie was not another woman who would break. 

I remember, very vividly, one of the worst nights of my life. It was New Year’s Eve, and we had been dating for a few months. She had been over an hour late to come watch the fireworks with me, which was unheard of coming from such a prompt woman. I had been pacing the floor of our apartment with Mikasa, my sister, trying to console me with her clunky form of empathy.  
“Eren, I told you, that girl is trouble. You could do so much better; she doesn’t treat you right. Always beating you up and laughing about it, what the hell is wrong with her?” Mikasa paced with me, so fast it seemed like she’d burn a line in the carpet, road-runner style.

“I don’t expect you to understand our relationship. Or even like it, for that matter. But leave me alone if you are going to bring this up again. I am just worried about her, Mikasa.” I fell back on our cat-clawed couch and put my head in my hands. She stayed quiet for a moment, slowing her pace.

“I know, Eren, I’m sorry. I just can’t stand seeing you upset. She’s hurting you right now, and I hate it.” She carefully sat next to me, placing her hand on my back.

“I just feel so… pissed off. What if she has just been leading me on these past few months? Maybe it was all an elaborate prank, or maybe her date with some other asshole is running late.” My heart fell as though it was made of molasses, dripping down farther and farther toward the floor. Getting attached to people was fucking rough, and I’d never been able to repair my trust with anyone, not even Mikasa. 

Whenever I saw Annie speaking with another guy or when she got upset with me, I felt as though the whole relationship was a lie- that I was getting played or that I really wasn’t the greatest catch.

“Eren, you have got to learn to trust again. I bet Annie is running late because of traffic or something. Wasn’t her father holding a New Year’s party at the dojo tonight? I have a feeling she just got caught up with a family friend or something.” placing her hand on my thigh, she squeezed reassuringly. “Not everyone is out to get you.”

We sat like that for a while, and while I did feel a little better, the texts I had sent Annie were practically burned into the screen of my phone as I stared at them. The little words were almost mocking me as the timestamp read at nearly 2 hours previous with no response.

I finally started drifting off to sleep on the couch when the doorbell rang.

Immediately, I hopped up and sped to the front door, kicking my spare pair of tennis shoes from blocking the doorway. My face was met with a gust of cold air and a cacophony of fireworks booming from all directions at the clock struck midnight. My vision faltered as I looked upon Annie’s face, and I began seeing red.

Mikasa pushed me out of the way and caught the blonde girl just as she collapsed. We carried her into our small apartment and laid her gently on the couch, making sure not to hurt her.   
Her face had clearly been stomped on, telling by the splits in her lip and dirt on her cheek, and she was bruising fast. Purple marks showed faintly under her jaw; her once white sweatshirt stained with grime and red. Her hands shook slightly, her knuckles scraped up as a sign of her struggle. I saw that the collar of her shirt was was practically torn clean off, and I forced myself to avert my eyes back to her face.  
No. No, no, no. 

I looked at her face once again. Blood was caked in her pale blonde hair, and it was the first time I had ever seen it out of the tight bun on the back of her head. A little clip dangled from a few strands near her ear; a little jeweled flower, missing a rhinestone, limply attached- a present I had given her the last time we met, a momento from my mother. It had been something she scoffed at, but I knew she was only playing tough when she tightly packed it in a safe spot in the front of her backpack.

No, no, no.

I saw nothing, felt nothing, as I stormed out of the apartment, the door still hanging ajar. I think the fireworks were still booming in my ears, or maybe that was my own pulse, my rage. I think Mikasa screamed at me to calm down. I think I tripped on the sidewalk, stumbling in anger three blocks down the street. I think I broke down Annie’s door and grabbed her father. I think I tried to punch him, but Mikasa pulled me off of him. I think Mikasa gave him a bloody nose. I think I smiled. 

I came-to in the hospital with a killer headache, but I didn’t remember why I was there. But I was pissed. Not at Annie’s father, not at Mikasa for pulling me off. I was pissed at Annie- the thought of her face made my vision shimmer. She was supposed to be fucking strong- she wasn’t supposed to be like the others. How could she let that happen? She was unbreakable. That’s why I loved her. For being a survivor and protecting herself. And now she screwed up. 

I remembered feeling sick at my own thoughts, my mind swirling as I sat up, and I bit down on my knuckle as hard as I could. What the fuck was wrong with me?   
I eventually got it together and pushed any nasty thoughts to the back of my mind. After Annie was discharged from the hospital, Mikasa and I tried to press charges against her father at the police station. Unfortunately, he had been really close with the officers- he had been the one who helped them with physical training yearly, so Annie’s abuse went ignored. She even got reprimanded for having painkillers in her system when Mikasa drove her to the hospital. Annie told me she had taken them from her mother’s bathroom cabinet before dragging herself to my apartment- a last attempt at staying tough before searching for help. 

Annie’s father continued life as usual, her mother hardly in a position to protect her daughter- she was bedridden due to back problems they didn’t have the money to resolve. The light I had worked so hard to coax into surfacing in Annie’s eyes had once again receded, leaving those cool blue shells I remembered from that first day.

\----

My fingers twisted through her hair as we embraced, the strands silky to the touch, surprising, considering her tough exterior. The room began to heat up, our clothes becoming barriers which barred back our most primal desires. She pushed me onto the bed, practically tackling me, and I gripped the mattress beneath me, sheets slipping through my sweaty fingers. 

Hungrily, she forced her mouth upon mine, and my mind began to wander as my body betrayed me once again. 

The blonde rubbed against me in a way no man could refuse, but my mind certainly began to quiver.

Annie used to always "take care" of me first, making sure I 'felt good'. And of course I did. When a woman like her comes in contact with your dick, usually you would just sit tight and enjoy the ride, right? But those days were over. All her eyes showed since the incident were either complete disinterest or a frightening hunger.

The blonde tore at my ear with her teeth, lips leaving kiss marks from head to toe while my midsection arced in pleasure. Clothes were shed, the order was blurry, but her shirt remained on. It never came off. That was a rule. She pushed close against my manhood, her eyes closed in anticipation. I touched her, gently, but she pushed my hand away and began working on my chest with her teeth. 

Little nibbles here and there, her teeth grazed all along my body, gradually increasing in strength. She began to bite harder and harder, all while heat began once again to collect below my waist, trained by the pain that a 'treat' would come soon. 

But my mind knew better. I loved Annie, and I was willing to do anything to allow for her eyes to reveal anything other than that dead stare. Even so, it didn't dull the pain. Blood began to spring from the teeth marks, oozing like ice cream fudge in the poor lighting of her bedroom. 

I winced as her teeth traveled farther downward, clamping down on a rather sensitive bit of skin.

"A-annie, not tonight, okay? I'm still trying to recover from last time." I asked, trying to maintain a light hearted tone, so as to not completely ruin the evening. She smirked and kept on, but my body was no longer reacting positively to her touch.

"It's okay, I'll be careful." She kept with the nibbling, leaving me to absent mindedly observe a particularly large paint bubble on the ceiling, long since dried. The bubble and I had become rather good friends this past year, it allowed for me to drift away from this body, a body which betrayed my heart time and time again, a slave to my inability to fight back, twitching and moaning along with Annie's rhythmic violence. I felt a sharp pain on my inner thigh, and my reunion with Mr. Paint Bubble was cut short.

"Annie, please stop." I asserted, pushing my hips back against the mattress, away from her hungry jaw. She paused for a moment, as if waiting for me to take a breather, then resumed clamping down on my sensitives.

"Fucking. Stop!-" I grabbed her hair and yanked sideways in a burst of anger and necessity, pushing her away from me, and she visibly cowered for a moment before recovering to her usual poker face. A single drop of blood delicately trickled down her chin. 

"Eren, you're fine. I'm sorry." She retrieved her pants from the floor and slipped them on, sitting on the edge of the bed, wiping her mouth on her sleeve.

I slid to the corner of the bed, feeling a sense of emptiness that was unfamiliar to me. Annie and I had been together for... How long?  
When we first met, any intimacy felt like something out of a classic romance movie. No blood, no insensitivity. I couldn't help but recall all of the good times we had, and each thought knocked my heart farther downwards. 

I didn't realize a few tears had begun to fall into my cheeks until Annie wiped one away, smearing the wetness across my cheekbone, creating an irritating chill which, while clearly an attempt at kindness, continued to fuel the confusion and frustration boiling up inside me.

"How are we going to fix this." It was a statement, not a question. 

"Eren, what are you talking about?" She stood up and crossed her arms.

"Don't you feel it too? This... hollow feeling?" I struggled to articulate what I was feeling- a mixture of weak nausea and frozen feeling creeping over my stomach and heart.

"I'm sorry I hurt you, okay? But you're not exactly telling me to quit it half the time. You're enjoying it. You just like causing problems for us, Eren." She huffed and raised her voice. "You're the fucking problem here. If you don't want it don't act like you like it!"

"Fuck you, Annie. This is exactly why I am afraid to bring this up. It's always gotta be my fault, right?" I stood up abruptly and left the room, fuming.

"Eren, you are incredibly selfish." I watched Annie tie her hair up and gather her things, using more force than necessary. She slipped on her sneakers, just crushing the backs with her heels by not even fully pulling them onto her feet, and slammed the front door on the way out.


End file.
